


Preconceptions

by squishyeyedpayne



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Boy Zayn, Bottom Liam, Frat Boy Liam, M/M, PWP, Power Bottom Liam, Recreational Drug Use, Top Zayn, but if you squint hard enough you can see the shadow of a plot, but more like, but they're fully coherent and consenting i promise, i kind of failed bad boy zayn, this is my first time writing smut so i prob failed brutally but ok, well I mean kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7041886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishyeyedpayne/pseuds/squishyeyedpayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m… high?” Liam asks, and Zayn nods.</p><p>“Yeah. babe, you’re high. You okay?”</p><p>Instead of answering him, Liam sniffs his sweater. “You smell really nice. C’n I have more?” Liam asks and looks up at Zayn.</p><p>“Nah, babe, no more. I need you to be coherent and consenting when I fuck you, yeah?”</p><p>_______</p><p>Basically my friend said she doesn't like Bad Boy!Zayn and Bottom!Liam and I immediately had to prover her wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preconceptions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ziamnerds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziamnerds/gifts).



> Ok really I'm sorry if the smut is pathetically bad, I've never done this before. God knows why I'm doing it but hey, challenge yourself, right?
> 
> Oh gosh.

Liam was never a huge fan of parties. The music was too loud, there were too many drunk people, too much to clean up afterwards, not to mention the _smell_. The smell of sweaty teenagers in a crowd, mixed with vomit and alcohol, _vile_. Despite this, he still finds himself in the frat house nearly every weekend, a beer in hand (mostly for show, he’s not a huge fan of drinking either) and swaying to the music. What he does enjoy at parties like these, is the atmosphere. He likes how the alcohol loosens everyone up a bit, allows them to shed their hesitant exterior and become a more social version of themselves. Liam, as the frat president’s best friend (he’ll never understand why Louis decided to befriend him, really), can never go too long without receiving excited high fives and slaps on the back, often being pulled in to join conversations about one thing or the other. People _like_ him, and he likes people. This is so very unlike high-school, where he never quite felt he fit in. When uni came along, bringing Louis and the frat into his life, he gained so much confidence in himself, and despite hating parties he must admit he loves the frat.

     “Lou!” he shouts over the loud, booming music. “You seen Niall anywhere?” Louis grins at Liam, and throws an arm over his shoulder.

     “Hey, Li!” Louis calls excitedly. “What’re you up to?”

     “Try’n to find Niall.” Liam has to lean in close to be able to make himself heard. “Someone shoved a joint in my hand with the specific orders of giving it to Niall, but I can’t find him.”

     “Nah, he went off somewhere, mate. Shaggin’ tha’ bloke, Scott? Dunno his name.” Louis shrugs, and takes another sip from his cup. “Good luck finding him though, mate.” He gives Liam a two fingered salute before walking off, and leaves Liam standing in the kitchen, clueless as to what his next course of action should be. What does one do with a joint? Well, except for the obvious of course, which he can’t really do considering the joint isn’t his to smoke.

     He steps onto the porch of the frat house, which is already littered with the typical red cups and butts from smoked fags. The late September air is cool against his overheated cheeks, and offers a nice change to the stuffy air inside. The deep breath he takes leaves his foggy brain feeling clearer, and he’s thankful for having this short moment to himself. Except, it turns out, he’s not alone. Leaning against the railing he finds Zayn Malik, with an unlit cigarette between his lips, and another one behind his ear.

     “’S that a metaphor?” Liam asks. Zayn startles, as though he hadn’t noticed anyone coming out.

     “Huh?”

     “The cigarette, s’it a metaphor?” Liam asks again, but Zayn only stares at his in response. “It’s a… uh, it’s a joke, like? The Fault in Our Stars? The guy, y’know, with the cigarettes- a metaphor?”

Zayn’s eyes widen in understanding. “Oh. Oh, fuck no it’s just- I don’t have a lighter.”

“What?” Liam frowns. Zayn’s always smoking. Always, or at least he’s walking around with a cigarette between his lips or fingers. It fits perfectly with the artsy, bad boy image he’s created. It goes well with the dyed hair and leather jackets, the heavy boots and nose piercing. Zayn Malik is really the stereotypical bad boy, and he’s got quite the reputation. Apparently his favourite weekend activity is sleeping around with anyone who’s willing, high off his ass on whatever drug he can get his hands on, or he’s out vandalising the city with a can of spray paint. Liam never really trusted what people said, and simply brushed them off as dumb rumours. He prefers making his own judgement about people, based on personal experience. The problem is that he’s never before had any personal experience with Zayn Malik, he’d always seemed so distant and, if he’s completely honest, quite intimidating. (That may have something to do with how frighteningly beautiful the boy is, and Liam’s not afraid of admitting that beautiful people intimidate him).

     But Zayn saying that he doesn’t have a lighter is kind of like a scuba diver saying that he didn’t bring his oxygen tank — it’s a necessity, something absolutely essential.

     “What?” Zayn  asks, and Liam realises he’s been staring for too long.

     “Uhm, nothing, just- it’s strange.” Liam shrugs.

     “Strange?”

     “Just, y’know, no lighter? You’re like, always smoking,” Liam looks down at the railing, tracing the shapes in the wood.

     Zayn shrugs. “Must’ve let someone borrow it, I s’ppose. Never got it back.” He stares up at the sky, seemingly not too bothered by this fact.

     “You, uh, you want mine?” Liam asks him.

     Zayn turns to look at him. “You smoke?”

     “Nah, but like, my friends do. Figure it’d com in handy some day.” Zayn nods and makes a grabby gesture with his hand.

     “Gimme, I’m dyin’ for a fag.”

     Liam starts to dig in his pockets, trying to remember where he put it. Left back, right back, left front- ah. There. He quickly pulls it out, but in doing so the joint he was supposed to give to Niall falls out, and Zayn looks at it questioningly.

     “Thought you didn’t smoke?” He’s got an eyebrow raised, but he looks more amused than judgemental.

     “I don’t!” Liam is quick to exclaim. “I mean, not because I’ve got anything against people that smoke, but, uh-” he interrupts himself, not knowing how to continue.

     “’S fine, mate. I’m not one to judge. You wanna share that blunt, tough?” Zayn gestures to the joint on the ground.

     “Well, it’s technically not mine… And I really do mean it when I say I don’t smoke.” Liam hesitates for a moment. “You want it though?” He asks.

     “Fuck yeah, I haven’t smoked one in ages. Let’s do it.” He picks up the joint from between Liam’s feet, and pulls the lighter from his tight grip. Liam has to turn away when Zayn puts it between his lips to light it, can’t handle the sight of Zayn’s lips tightly wrapped around the blunt, dark eyes concentrated on the task at hand. It makes Liam’s fantasy run wild.

     “Ahh, that’s good,” Zayn sighs and tilts his head back to release the smoke into the air above them. Liam watches as Zayn’s eyes flutter close, and as the smoke dances slow and seductive from his lips. It makes Liam want to know what they taste like, despite knowing they’d most likely taste like weed and cheap beer. It’s somehow still a tempting thought, leaning in closer and connecting his lips to Zayn’s. A drunken snog, that tomorrow could be blamed on the alcohol (even though Liam’s nowhere near drunk, and neither does Zayn seem to be, but no one else has to know). 

     “You want a hit?” Zayn asks after noticing Liam’s stare.

     “Oh, uh…” Liam think about if for a second. “I’ve never- never tried, actually.”

     “Does that mean you’d like to try?” Zayn cocks an eyebrow at Liam. Liam feels himself blush under Zayn’s knowing stare, and nods his consent. “C’mere then,” Zayn says and reaches for Liam.

     “What?” Liam’s confused.

     “Come _on_ , I need you closer for this,” Zayn insists. Liam, still confused, is surprised when Zayn closes a hand around his wrist and tugs. He stumbles forward, nearly knocking his head against Zayn’s, and Zayn chuckles. “Just open your mouth when I tell you to, ya?” Still utterly confounded by the situation, Liam only manages a weak nod before he watches as Zayn takes another deep breath in. “Open,” he demands, wisps of smoke escaping. Liam, finally catching on, lets his jaw go slack as Zayn leans closer. Apparently not satisfied, Zayn takes a steady grip of his chin and pulls down, leaving Liam open wide for him to release his breath. And so he does.

     Liam nearly forgets to breathe in, stunned by the feeling of Zayn’s lips against his, but with a nudge from Zayn he manages to catch some of the smoke in his lungs. It’s thick and heavy, and Liam nearly chokes on it. He manages to hold it in for a few seconds, before he releases it in small huffs. His eyes are watering with the effort of not coughing, but he feels proud of himself for managing to keep it at bay. He gives himself a mental pat on the back for not embarrassing himself in front of the most beautiful boy on earth.

     “That’s…” Liam searches for the right words, “ _thick_ ,” he says, and Zayn throws his head back and laughs. _So much for not embarrassing yourself._  

     “You feeling it yet?” Zayn asks and takes another drag.

     “I don’t know,” Liam says and frowns. How is he supposed to know what being high feels like? “I feel… like, I’m all- uh, floaty. Like- like a bubble. Y’know like those soap bubbles? Yeah, yeah I feel like those. Bubbles.” Liam giggles, and Zayn laughs with him.

     “Jesus, from _one_ hit, you’re ridiculous.” He puts the joint out against the wooden railing, leaving a scorch mark, but Liam doesn’t have it in him to care at the moment. Everything is just so… _loud_. And _vivid_. He leans his head against Zayn’s shoulder, taking it all in.

     “I’m… high?” He asks, and Zayn nods.

     “Yeah. babe, you’re high. You okay?”

     Instead of answering him, Liam sniffs his sweater. “You smell really nice. C’n I have more?” Liam asks and looks up at Zayn.

     “Nah, babe, no more. I need you to be coherent and consenting when I fuck you, yeah?” Liam startles at that. Is that where this has been going? _Fuck yeah,_ he’s well up for that. Zayn chuckles, and Liam wonders whether he voiced his thoughts out loud in his hazy state, but decides he doesn’t care. He’s gonna fuck Zayn Malik, for fucks sake. Nothing else matters, he decides, and throws himself at the other boy. Their lips collide in a violent fashion, noses knocking together uncomfortably and teeth scraping lips. Neither of them care. 

     Drunk of more than beer, and high of more than weed, they stumble together in a semi-coherent state towards Liam’s room at the top of the stairs. It’s a struggle, keeping their hands on each other while trying to conquer the stairs, but they manage to do so and eventually end up pressed against the back of Liam’s closed door, Zayn caging Liam in with his arms.

     “Fuck, babe, you’re killing me,” Zayn says as Liam mouths up his neck, careful to not leave any visible marks. Liam only grins and nips at the skin underneath his jaw, craving the sounds Zayn releases. “ _God_ , get on the bed, love. Need you naked.”

     Liam grins up at him mischievously. Zayn is taken by surprise as the boy lifts him up and walks him to the bed, less than gently throwing him down.

     “Let’s make one thing clear, Malik,” he says as he slides his shirt of teasingly. “You may be the one fucking me tonight, but I’m the one in charge. I’ll get naked when _I_ want to get naked, and right now? I want _your_ clothes off.” He crawls onto the bed, over Zayn, and plays with the hem of his shirt.

     Zayn must admit, having Liam manhandle him like that is such a turn-on, and the way Liam’s voice went all deep and dark… _fuck_ , that just did it for him. He has to grab himself to stop the desperate aching in his jeans, but Liam slaps his hand away. 

     “I’m in charge of your pleasure tonight, Zayn. Trust me, I’ll make it good for you,” Liam promises with a smirk, and lowers himself between Zayn’s spread legs on the bed. “This okay?”

     Zayn has to close his eyes for a moment, just the sight of Liam that close to his cock nearly has him nutting off in his jeans. “ _God_ ,” he groans. “Yeah, yeah, just get on with it!” Zayn’s about ready to rip his hair out if something doesn’t happen soon, and Liam seems to find his desperation amusing.

     “Impatient, are we?” he asks teasingly, before unbuttoning Zayn’s jeans. “Let’s do something about it, then.” He quickly sheds both his clothes and Zayn’s, and soon the two boys are naked on the bed, Liam one again kneeling between Zayn’s legs. Liam’s gazing at Zayn’s cock, resting heavy on his thigh. The tip is blurting out pre-come without any form on stimulation, something that Liam finds he really likes. He lets his finger run across the slit, noticing that Zayn is cut, unlike himself. Zayn makes a choked noise, and Liam decides to take pity on him, and grabs him in a firm grip. Now, Liam hasn’t been with too many partners, but he always finds it such a rush to be the one to pleasure the other. Of course he loves when it’s mutual and he’s getting wanked off, or orally pleasured or however his parter wants it, but there’s just something so satisfying about making your lover writhe in pleasure and desperation on the sheets in front of you. It’s such a rush seeing what effect you can have on another person, and a power-trip knowing that they’re practically incapacitated because of you, completely unable to focus on anything but the pleasure you give them. Liam loves being in charge like that, and even more so when it’s Zayn he’s with.

     Zayn’s not shy about letting out sounds of pleasure as Liam tugs him off, gasps and whimpers and moans steadily leaving his mouth. When Liam leans down to bring the tip of his cock into his mouth, Zayn groans so loud he’s scared everyone will hear despite the deafeningly loud music. Neither of them can be bothered to care, though, as they’re too wrapped up in each other and their pleasure.

     Liam is steadily sucking Zayn’s cock, mouthing at the slit, the source of the copious amounts of salty liquid leaking onto his tongue. “Oh, _fuck_ ,” Zayn moans when Liam flicks his tongue right under the head of Zayn’s cock. “Shit, your mouth is fucking _sinful_ , babe.” Liam nearly glows at the praise, doubling his efforts to make Zayn feel good. Zayn lets a hand slide into Liam’s hair, fisting it gently. Liam hums in appreciation, and Zayn moans and tugs harder.

     “ _Shit_ , babe, need you up here,” Zayn demands, and Liam complies.

     “Good?” he asks.

     “You cheeky little shit, you know you’re good. Just shut up and kiss me.” Liam gives Zayn a teasing grin before leaning down to connect their lips. They stay like that for some time, simply enjoying each other’s mouth without rushing. Liam is sitting in Zayn’s lap, gently rocking back and forth with no clear goal in mind, simply enjoying the tingles that shoot down his spine and the appreciative noises escaping Zayn’s throat.

     “Need to be in you, babe, _fuck_ ,” Zayn groans, apparently fed up with Liam’s slow tempo.

     “Patience, _babe_ ,” Liam teases. “What’s the rush?” When Zayn grabs his hips to pull him closer Liam immediately grabs them and bring them above their heads. “Uh-uh, remember who’s in charge, Zayn. Make no mistake, it may be your dick going in my arse, but I’m in control, _I_ decide the tempo, _I_ decide how and when you get off. Understood?”

     Zayn can do nothing but nod, surprised by how much the authoritative tone in Liam’s voice turns him on. He watches as Liam climbs off him, walking over to his dresser to get the supplies needed. He has a great view of Liam’s toned back and his arse, that admittedly looks great naked. Those jeans really don’t do his arse justice, Zayn decides. he should wear skinny jeans more often. “Got the thighs for it,” Zayn mumbles just as Liam turns back around.

    “Hmm?” Liam looks questioningly at Zayn.

     “Nothing.” Zayn shakes his head. He deliberates whether or not he should demand that Liam gets over there and get on his dick already, but decides that it probably wouldn’t be appreciated, so he stays quiet. Liam is a sight to behold when he walks towards the bed, his whole body flushed with arousal under the deep tan he’d developed over summer, cock thick and heavy, leaking. Zayn could get used to this view.

     Such a shame it’s only a one night stand.

It’s rushed after that. Once Liam once again settles in Zayn’s lap, it’s a mess of mouths and tongues and fingers, both of them equally impatient. Zayn has two fingers in Liam, but makes it no further before Liam’s pulling back, putting the condom on Zayn and slicking him up. It’s tight fit, when Liam sinks down on him, considering the minimal preparation but Liam doesn’t mind. All he cares about is that blissed out look on Zayn’s face, eyes closed tightly and mouth open wide as sounds of pleasure escapes him. _He_ did that. _Liam_. To him there’s no greater achievement in sex than the look on your partner’s face as you slowly work them towards an orgasm. It’s empowering, nearly more satisfying than the orgasm itself. When it washes over Zayn he has a tight grip on Liam’s hip, fucking into him desperately trying to make the most of it. Liam grabs himself, and it only takes a few strokes before he’s releasing over Zayn’s stomach and chest.

     He’s temped to fall next to Zayn and go to sleep, feeling sated and satisfied deep in his bones, but resists. Judging by Zayn’s face he’s in no condition to clean himself up, so Liam takes on the mission. Before long, though, he’s back by Zayn’s side, and he finds himself being pulled in for a cuddle. Liam doesn’t mind, he’s always been a fan of post-sex cuddles.

     “Good?” he asks Zayn, and is met with a sleepy gaze.

     “Yeah. Definitely. Great,” Zayn says, and Liam beams at him. Zayn buries his face under Liam’s jaw, exhale tickling his neck.

     “Never took you for a cuddler, really,” Liam tells Zayn.

     “Really?” Zayn says and pulls back to look at Liam with a frown. “How come?”

     “Doesn’t really go with the whole ‘I’m-a-badass-with-a-badass-leather-jacket-and-a-badass-motorcycle’ thing you’ve got going on. Zayn just looks at him for a moment, then breaks into full on laughter. “What?” Liam asks, confounded.

     “No it’s just — sorry, gosh — is that how you see me?” Zayn looks at him, incredulous.

    “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not just me, yeah? It’s like, everyone. Like, just you’ve got this vibe, i guess. You don’t really talk to people, you just sit there and smoke and kind of glare at people and-”

     “I do _not_ glare at people!”

     “- no one really knows you. Word goes around. I mean most of it is just absolutely ridiculous and there’s no way I’d believe those things about you, but… The badass thing seems sort of… credible, really,” Liam explains, waiting for Zayn to reply. It takes a few moments, Zayn consider what he’d just been told.

     “Wow,” he says. “People have an incredibly skewed version of reality, when it comes to me.” Liam feels a bit guilty. Despite trying his best not to make assumptions about Zayn, he did accept certain things without so much as a thought, even though he’d never spoken a word to the boy himself.

     “I’m sorry,” he says, and Zayn looks at him.

     “For what?”

     “Making assumptions. Making judgements about you despite not knowing you. Never telling anyone off for talking shit bout you. I don’t know, a lot of things, I guess.” Liam shrugs.

     Zayn sends him a soft, fond smile. “You big doofus, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t know me.”

     “ _Exactly_. That’s the point I’m trying to make. I didn’t know you, yet I had so many preconceptions about you before tonight.” Zayn doesn’t respond, so they lay there looking at each other for a minute. “Tell me then,” Liam finally says. “About you. Do you enjoy the solitude, or why is it that people have this view of you?”

     “Difficult to say, really. I mean, I do enjoy being alone and I guess I _do_ kind of glare at people sometimes, so it’s not too far-fetched. The whole bad-boy thing is completely wrong though. Honestly, I study english literature and _poetry_ for god’s sake. How badass is poetry?”

     “I don’t know, it sounds pretty badass to me,” Liam says jokingly, and Zayn snorts at him.

     “Oh, shut up.” Zayn gives him a shove, and turns his back to Liam. “Now enough fucking pillow talk, I need my beauty sleep. Quiet.”

     Zayn’s not entirely sure if he imagines the soft “You really don’t” whispered behind him, but he’s already drifted too far off to care.

 

oOo

 

Liam wakes the next morning to Zayn climbing out of bed, trying to be inconspicuous as he gathers his things to leave. Liam entertains the thought of letting him leave without a word, but decides against it.

     “Mornin’,” he says in a raspy voice, startling Zayn.

     “Oh, hi. Morning.” He’s in the process of pulling his jeans on, and Liam giggles and Zayn jumps and wiggles to stretch the tight material over his legs.

     “Planning to leave without a goodbye?” Liam asks in a teasing tone, wanting Zayn to know that he wouldn’t be upset. He would be, slightly, but he doesn’t want Zayn to know.

     “Yeah, thought I’d let you sleep. Figured I’d leave you my number on the dresser, but I guess since you’re awake I could just put it in your phone?”

     Liam hums. “Should be in the pocket of my jeans.” Zayn rummages around on the floor until he locates Liam’s jeans on the floor, and pulls out the phone.

     “Passcode?” Liam gestures for Zayn to come over, and hold out his left index finger. Zayn takes the hint, and lets his fingerprint unlock the pone. After a minute Liam hears how Zayn’s phone goes off in his own pocket.

     “There, got yours as well. I, uh, I guess I’ll see you around yeah?” Zayn scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward.

     “See you around, Zayn,” Liam says with a smile. He watches Zayn leave, and pulls himself out of bed to gather supples for a shower.

     What he doesn’t expect is for Zayn to poke his head in the door again, looking flustered.

     “Hey, I just ran back. I just, I was programming your number into my phone, and I realised- I never got your name yesterday. What do I put you in as?”

     Liam laughs. “Liam,” he says. “I’m Liam Payne.”

     “Right. _Leeyum_.” And with that, he’s gone.


End file.
